Just Dues
by Demon Faith
Summary: Justice means different things to different people. One man’s interpretation leads to danger for the CSIs. SpeedEric
1. Tools of Justice

PAIRING: Speed/Eric  
TIMEFRAME: Somewhere in Season 2, as no Megan and I'm denying 'Lost Son'.  
WARNINGS: Violence, language, graphic injury, dark themes.  
DISCLAIMER: CSI: Miami belongs to other people. Speed is usually claimed by Neen, but her model isn't chasing Eric. Guess this one's mine then.  
NOTES: It was all a dream, I swear! Methinks this will not stay my eventual execution. I love my boys really. It's just that sometimes hurting them leads to good situations. Really, I only do it to better their lives.  
An apology for lab layout, as it's not something I'm particularly clued up about. My knowledge is purely based on the CBS website, which wasn't particularly helpful, though it did help me with character background.  
Thanks to Cascade Hospital, for being such a great fandom medical resource, and to eMedicine for being so very thorough in their descriptions. A special mention for my father, who sweetly asked if this was for my biology homework – thank goodness he'll never find out why I was so curious. :)

* * *

"I'm looking for Eric Delko."

The receptionist looked up and smiled, before picking up a pen.

"Of course, sir. And what is your business?"

"I'm Agent Douglas, FBI."

A quick flick of a badge, and the woman's eyes were saucer-round. She glanced over her shoulder, as if to check for surveillance.

"Are you sure you don't want Horatio Caine, sir? He normally deals with the FBI."

He didn't have time for this. He had wasted far too much time already. Carefully unclenching his fists, he smiled at the receptionist and shrugged.

"My business is with Mr Delko, but I'll happily see his supervisor."

Yes, Horatio, why not? All roads lead to Rome, and what was a little more time? He had all the time in the world. Didn't he? He smiled to himself, and the receptionist took it as a compliment, blushing prettily. Cute, he thought, if he didn't have things to do.

He allowed his mind to wander as he was led down the hallway. It was a pleasant enough place, he decided, had a certain cutting-edge design that he admired. They surrounded themselves with all their tools of justice, and yet, here he was. Amazing really, how one could be so consumed by a belief and yet be so utterly wrong.

His guide stopped for a moment to talk to some lab technicians, presumably to work out the location of Mr Caine. He had no great desire to see the Justice Carrot, that much was certain, but he wouldn't object. It was just another step to take.

Absently, he pulled his coat tighter, smoothing down the material with care. The receptionist apologised for the delay, before leading him on to a small laboratory. She left him a few feet from the door, and he thanked her sincerely. Yes, she had been a great help.

Through the door he could see Horatio Caine, standing beside a microscope and talking quietly. A dark-haired man was looking at a sample and giving a verdict on what he saw, a smile on his lips. A short blonde woman held some photographs in her hands, and was laying them neatly on the desk, laughing about something that had been said. And finally, leaning over the microscope from the other side, as if he could somehow divine the image, was Eric Delko, smiling as he studied the dark-haired man intently.

Quite the family, he thought. Such a tragedy, really, to lose a member of the family.

Such tragedy.

* * *

"I'm telling you, H, the rag isn't important." 

"Evidence is evidence, Eric. And we need everything we can get, don't we?"

"He may have a point, H. I can't find anything remarkable about this at all."

Speed looked up from his microscope, and turned to Horatio, shrugging. He wasn't sure why Horatio felt the need to put Eric down all the time – they all had faults, but it seemed to always be Eric who received the sharp edge of the investigator's tongue.

"Well, any evidence in vicinity of the gun is important, Tim. Look, this cloth was caught right in the trigger. It must have relevance."

Calleigh shook back her hair, and Speed watched one golden strand fly loose from her hair and settle on the floor, taunting him. Perfect evidence, but this was just a scrap of material. Red cotton, nothing special.

Speed looked up at Delko then, at the white vest he wore as if he was building sandcastles on the beach. He stared, and wondered what that would tell him about Eric, if that fabric tore. It would tell him that Eric liked clothes that wore well, that painted a history with marks as all white cloth will, that his scent was honey and musk with a touch of sea salt when he'd been by the shore…

Scent. Yes, that was it.

"I could run this through the mass spec, see if it can pick up any residue. Might link the killer to a place."

Horatio turned to him with a quirked eyebrow, as if challenging him to confess he was wrong, but they were interrupted before he found words. Speed barely restrained a sigh.

"Excuse me? Horatio, Eric."

Speed didn't recognise the man, but he saw Eric's face drain of colour, and wished there wasn't a microscope in the way. He wanted to move closer, to steady his friend, reassure.

The man walked in casually, past Calleigh with an appreciative eye-flicker, and then in front of Eric, smiling. He casually placed his hands in his pockets, waiting.

"Mr Sanchez," Eric said, voice cracking, "I thought you were…"

The gun was whipped out in a matter of seconds, levelled at Eric's head. Horatio pulled back Calleigh, and Speed froze for a second, mind not fully prepared to believe what he saw.

Eric's eyes were wide, his whole body shaking, and Speed thought quickly, remembered the panic button in the corner. He dashed away from Horatio, and stumbled just as a shot echoed in his ears. He fell to the floor, with Eric's cry of "Speed!" piercing the buzz from his abused ears.

"Now, why would your friend be so stupid, Eric? Almost got himself killed just then, not good for either of you. Go now, help him up – move slowly, nothing sudden."

Speed started to push himself up, mentally checking to make sure he was all there. He felt trembling hands grasp his shoulders, supporting him as he stood. Speed reached out in return, fingers splayed across his back in comfort, unwilling to let go. He pushed himself ahead of Eric, trying to shield him from the gun pointed his way, but he knew Eric would never allow it. Stubborn man.

"You're really not very smart, are you? I can shoot you easy enough, and Eric will still be here for my gun. And Horatio? I can still see you, my friend; I don't think the door is the right way at all. Perhaps it's time to up the stakes, Eric, hmm?"

Sanchez continued to level the gun at Speed, as he undid the one fastener on his coat. It fell open easily, revealing the set of explosives carefully strapped to the man's torso. Eric gasped, and Speed closed his eyes, mind unwillingly calculating how much of the building that would take out.

/The whole wing/

And no way to warn, no route of escape. Speed moved closer still to Eric, smelling fear and death in the room. His eyes met those of Sanchez, and he saw only satisfaction, accomplishment. He felt sick.

"But as you know, Eric, I'm a generous man. I don't want to hurt your friends here – I just want to talk to you. Yes, Eric, let's talk, let's think about what you did to me, to my wife's memory."

"You beat Carla to death with a baseball bat, and dumped her body in the river."

Sanchez laughed, and the cold sound cut through Speed like a knife. Yet all he could think about was how flat Eric's voice was, as if he was preparing himself, as if was ready to, ready for…

"Why isn't this animal behind bars?"

He didn't realise he'd spoken until the words were hanging in the air, and Sanchez was still laughing, though the uneven edges were becoming more pronounced and his dark eyes festered like storm clouds.

"Oh, I was in jail. Three years of the best my country could offer and look, now I'm here. Carla's a memory, and soon, Eric, soon you will be too. But I'm still here."

Speed's mind was reeling, but his eyes remained fixed on the gun. Sanchez caught his gaze and seemed to remember himself, fishing out what appeared to be a detonator, and cradling it to his chest.

"Enough of this, my friend, enough. You – the one guarding Eric so nobly, step aside. And you Horatio, with your lady, come around where I can see you. Nothing sudden, nothing stupid. I'd hate to be startled and press this button here."

He waved the detonator carelessly, as Horatio and Calleigh moved around the back of the desk, Horatio constantly whispering. Speed saw now that Calleigh was also shaking, and her eyes were wider than he'd ever seen. There would be therapy after this, he could tell. /After this – if we make it to 'after this'/

Sanchez stared at Speed, waiting for him to move. He stood perfectly still, meeting his eyes with anger – he wouldn't let this man hurt Eric, not while he lived. He wasn't stupid, but he knew that if he moved away, Eric would die, and that wasn't an option.

"I thought I told you to move."

"I won't let you hurt him."

With mirth in his eyes, Sanchez swung the gun towards Calleigh. "What about her? Mind if I shoot her?" He moved the weapon onto Horatio, still looking at Speed. "Or what about your boss here, can I kill him? What would you do then?"

Speed was drowning – he couldn't win, he couldn't reason, he couldn't do anything. The whole situation was spiralling out of control, and he realised he was probably making it worse for them. For Eric.

"Tim, please," Eric's hand was on his arm, steadier now, "it's me he wants."

"I'm not letting you do this," Speed said, against all reason, not looking at Eric but at Sanchez.

"I won't let everyone die for me!" It was a shout, and Speed winced; then, a feather whisper: "Especially not you."

He was frozen again, and Eric moved away in that second, hands raised. Away from his protection, from his idiocy – and stood in front of Sanchez, clenched jaw and scared eyes.

"Now let them go. You want me, they don't need to be here."

Speed's eyes were now fixed on Eric, and he heard Horatio and Calleigh move closer to him, everyone holding their breath. Sanchez was silent now, just smiling at Eric, looking at him as if he were some stain on the street. That look scared Speed more than anything.

"No, Eric, I don't think I will. I think they want to be here, don't you? And you won't risk them, no, family ties are strong. I should know."

Speed met Eric's eyes frantically, feeling so damn useless – _again_ – and wishing he hadn't come to work today. Had taken Eric away last night, told him…told him everything.

"Come with me, Eric, over here. We need to have a private talk."

Sanchez shoved Eric roughly over to the other side of the room, sending him straight into the counter. Eric grasped it, turning himself around slowly. Speed saw him glance his way, before facing Sanchez again, swallowing hard.

"What do you want?"

A harsh laugh, and then the gun was waved close to him, the detonator still cradled close to his chest.

"Why, Eric, I want some justice. My wife's dead, my children in care, and here I am. You took everything from me – now, now I'll take everything from you."

Speed instantly jerked forward, but Horatio held him back. "Not now, Speed. We need to wait…"

"You – you killed Carla! I saw your kids, bones and bruises. They're safe now."

Sanchez pounced, pinning Eric to the counter and holding the gun to his temple.

"I loved my wife, my kids," he grated out, voice shaking, "I would never hurt them."

He backed away slowly, then levelled the gun at the centre of Eric's chest, eyes gleaming behind the unshed tears. "I won't let you hurt another man like me. You deserve everything you get."

Speed realised too late what was happening, escaping Horatio's grip just as a shot rang through the lab.

"ERIC!"


	2. Helpless Perspective

NOTES: I promised myself I'd update with the first review - so let's see what you make of this:)

* * *

Eric jumped at the last moment, the hot burning pain settling in his right side. He clutched at the wound, sinking to the floor with a loud moan. He heard a lot of yelling somewhere, Horatio maybe, telling Speed to stop. Stop what? Did it matter?

The pain spiked as he shifted on the floor, and he was vaguely aware of a hand on his face, a soft voice whispering nearby. "Eric? ERIC! Open your eyes, please."

For that voice, anything. He forced his heavy eyelids back, and saw Speed's white face close to his, far closer than he should be. Something about a bomb…was he hit by a bomb?

"Speed…what…I don't…"

"Shhh, it's alright. I've got you, I'm here."

A trembling hand settled over his, pushing against the red river spilling over his clean white vest. This was going to stain, for sure. He might have to take it to Mama, she'd know how to clean it.

Another hand slipped behind him, looking for something, distressed when it wasn't found. The arm slipped further round instead, drawing Eric close, arms encircling him now as one tried to stem the tide and the other protected. He could fall asleep right here if it weren't for the pain in his side…

He was vaguely aware of another voice, one he didn't recognise so well. The man appeared to be rambling.

"…only bruises with Carla…not so much blood…no blood…too much blood…not dead…"

"Call 911. He needs to get to a hospital."

Speed's voice now, and Eric wondered who needed a hospital. Was Horatio hurt? The rambling man? Why hadn't they stopped it? He should've stopped it.

The other man seemed to regain control of himself and was moving closer. Speed held on to him tighter, and it was good kind of pain, though it stole his breath. The man was holding a gun. A gun.

"Step…step away from him. He…he deserves…"

"Call an ambulance or he'll die!"

"I WANT HIM TO DIE!"

Silence echoed through the room, and only now could they hear the commotion outside, the frantic commands and the mass exodus of the lab population. Where was everyone going? What was happening?

"Tim…what…"

"Tell him to shut up! I want him to shut up!"

There was a soft nudge to his cheek, and he turned into Speed, whose face was but an inch from his. "Stay with me, okay? Just…quiet, for now. Just for a little while, alright?"

Eric was too tired to nod, but allowed his body to collapse further into Speed. He allowed his eyes to drift closed, as the voices droned on and his energy drained away in red.

* * *

He had heard of pain-by-proxy, but he never believed in such sentimental rubbish. How could someone's pain hurt you, all tucked away inside them? It made no sense, no sense at all. Until now.

At that moment, his heart bled, a sharp pain drilled right through. He was having difficult drawing breaths, but he kept going, pushing his hand into Eric as if to force it through the weakening form. His breathing was too fast, and the physical pressure of his slumped form burned a hole in him.

He wanted to cry, even though he hadn't cried in years, but Eric needed his strength more than anything and he wouldn't let him down. Timothy Speedle was a man of his word, and when he turned his head, whispering into Eric's hair, he meant every word: "I won't let you die."

Sanchez was calming now, his breaths evening out and his gun hand steadying on Eric once more. Speed raised his head defiantly, staring hard at the man, before shifting his body across Eric's, shielding his head and torso from the gun.

"What…what are you doing?"

"I won't let you shoot him."

A harsh laugh from the man, an edge of hysteria creeping in. Speed swallowed nervously – he was mad, and holding a gun. /And let's not forget those explosives…/

"I already shot him! Look, see, all that blood – I shot him good! One more – what difference will it make?"

Speed's eyes met his solidly, burning coals of hate. "I won't let you shoot him."

"Mr Sanchez, there are currently twenty of Miami PD's best marksmen with their sights fixed on you. I think you might want to reconsider your position."

Horatio's voice was the model of calm; only those close to him would hear the underlying tremor, notice the way his eyes kept flicking over to Eric slumped in Speed's arms.

The man turned wildly and held the detonator above his head, glaring at the men through the glass. "You see this? You can't shoot me before I press it and then you'll all go up!"

Insanity blazed behind his eyes and Speed swallowed, knowing that they would all die unless someone did something.

Calleigh was collapsed into a chair, staring at Eric and shaking uncontrollably; Horatio was trying to be calm and apply logic, but this man looked as if reason was a distant memory; and Eric…Eric was lying in his arms, bleeding to death because of this bastard.

That only left him. If he could drag himself from Eric, from what could be his last moments with him – but no, he couldn't think like that. Not while he still breathed, still held onto life so tenaciously. Speed would fight for him and win.

Because loss was too frightening to contemplate.

* * *

It had been too silent for long minutes now. Just minutes? It seemed longer.

Calleigh could only stare at Speed, paled face bent close to Eric's, speaking softly as he gently kissed the unconscious man's hair. Unconscious, bleeding, dying…

And all she could do was stare.

She stood abruptly, unaware of Sanchez's gaze upon her and stepped towards the cabinet. She could hear Horatio's warning tone but opened the door and removed the bottle of water, moving slowly and placing it on the cabinet top before closing the door again.

This was not reality – her mind could not process what was happening, couldn't quite accept the idea that the red pool of glistening blood was Eric's. In her strange dreamlike state, she drifted towards the duo, unscrewing the cap of the bottle and put her hand to Eric's cheek, parting his lips so he could drink.

He stirred as she trickled the water into his lips, dark unfocussed eyes fluttering as she finally acted, did something. Eric made a small pained sound, sharp and intense and the illusion snapped.

Calleigh was kneeling in Eric's blood, vainly trying to make him drink as he slipped further and further away. Her back straightened instantly and her eyes locked on his, but she wouldn't betray him now. They had come too far.

"You really should drink, Eric," she said, forcing a smile onto her lips. "That's really important right now."

"F'you say so, Cal," he mumbled, swallowing down the sips of water with considerable effort.

She looked at Speed, but he was oblivious to the world, staring intently at Eric as he brushed his lips against his cheek. Calleigh's heart stopped – the frank, beautiful gesture revealed his soul for all those who cared to look and she had a front row seat. Tim Speedle loved Eric Delko – and Eric was dying.

No, she refused to think that way. Eric had to live, so that Tim could say with words what his eyes screamed. It couldn't end like this.

Calleigh looked up then to see Speed watching Sanchez, who was nervously glancing between Horatio, the trio on the floor and the snipers visible through the window. The intense dark eyes were calculating and they suddenly fixed on her.

"I need you to hold him for me," Speed said calmly, and Calleigh heard what he didn't say. She slid her hand under his, putting pressure on the wound and allowed Eric to lean into her as Speed shakily stood and faced Sanchez.

The man watched him, waving the gun in his direction with one hand and nursing the detonator with the other, holding it close to his chest like a babe. Calleigh could only stare as Speed regarded him with derision, acting for all the world like…like a man with nothing to lose.

"I think we need to talk."

* * *

Horatio Caine did not easily accept that there were some things outside his control. And this situation was rapidly becoming one of them.

First, some convict marches into his lab wielding a gun and strapped with C-4 – the start of a bad day by anyone's yardstick. Then one of his subordinates is shot, probably fatally and there's not a damn thing he can do, because the perp still has five shots and a detonator. And now Tim Speedle is standing before the guy, bold as brass, and looking as if he's prepared to die.

This day couldn't get any worse, could it?

"Things aren't quite going to plan, are they?"

Then again, nothing was certain.

Sanchez fixed the gun on Speed, eyes dark. "You don't know anything about it! Stay away!"

Speed held up his hands, shrugging with apparent nonchalance. Sanchez still watched him suspiciously.

"It was meant to be quick, clean. Too much blood, and now no escape. You didn't really think this through at all."

Sanchez lunged forward, grabbing Speed by his collar. "I'm not afraid to die!" He jabbed the gun towards Eric. "He took everything from me – what do I have to live for?"

"What are your kids gonna say?" Speed continued, voice mocking. "Their Dad didn't just beat Mom to death: he murdered a bunch of cops too. Imagine the playground taunts – 'Your Daddy's a cop killer."

Sanchez paled, hand shaking. "They'll know why I did it! I was wronged! She wasn't meant to die, just…learn her lesson."

"No Dad, no Mom, no one. That's what you condemn your children to if you go through with this. Maybe…if you give yourself up now, we can work something out."

A snarl from Sanchez and he pulled Speed closer, pressing the gun to his temple. "More jail time? Nothing is worth that place, nothing!"

"You could walk away. You have all the power; you would be miles away before they'd dare give chase. You got what you came for – why take it further?"

Sanchez glared at Speed with unholy dark eyes and suddenly, his wild gaze settled and he said, perfectly calmly, "I came for him to die. Now step back and you, blonde bitch, come here."

Horatio watched, powerless, as Speed was forced to retreat from his efforts – efforts that had almost succeeded – and Calleigh stepped fearlessly into the danger zone, her position beside Eric instantly replaced by Speed.

"Remove this," Sanchez said with a smile, as he gestured towards the C-4 device tucked snugly into his chest and levelled the gun straight at her head. Horatio bit his lip – what to do, what to do – but no plan sprang to mind. Calleigh carefully untied the vest that bore the complicated mess of wires and explosives and then pulled it over his head, trying to ignore the leers the man gave her as she accidentally brushed his body.

"And now put it on him," he said smugly, gesturing the muzzle of the gun towards Eric. There was a moment of horrified silence before Speed's indignant shout shattered the soundless air.

"Haven't you done enough, you twisted bastard? I'm not letting you do this, do you understand? It isn't going to happen."

"And what are you going to do, huh?" Sanchez said, his eyes cold and emotionless now. "Whoever wears the vest – doesn't matter, because we're all going to die! I just press this button and BOOM! But this one," he turned his frosty glare on Eric, "this one I want to be sure of. Now, if you wouldn't mind…"

He nudged Calleigh with the barrel of the gun, causing Horatio to wince in sympathy, and she stuttered forward kneeling before Speed and Eric with her bottom lip quivering and haunted tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered and Speed nodded to her. Horatio just caught his reply: "Not your fault, Calleigh." He then raised his voice for Sanchez to hear – "If you're condemning Eric, I go with him."

The man just smiled. "The more of you bastards mauled, the better. You people make me sick."

"I assure you, sir," Calleigh said bitingly, "the feeling is mutual." With shaking hands, she placed the garland of death around their necks and then moved back so the grinning Sanchez could tie those final knots.

"Oh look, a detonator cable here and look at that," he said with relish, "the CSIs have no escape. And just for fun," a few more wires were swapped around, a timer clicked, and Horatio realised with mounting horror what was happening, "five minutes is all you have left."

Sanchez backed away, near-hysterical laughter pealing from his lips as he took one more look at all the CSIs present before raising the gun to his own head.

"We all fall down," he giggled and pulled the trigger.

The gunshot echoed through the room, covering the three covering CSIs with a fine mist of blood and brain matter. Horatio moved quickly across the lab and knelt down before the device, studying it intently and trying to ignore the very personal significance of this mission.

"Calleigh, I need you to go outside and find the bomb squad experts. And then I want you to join the evacuees – you are not to re-enter this building."

With a devastated look at Speed and Eric, she nodded hurriedly and reached out to touch both their cheeks one last time before standing and removing herself from the aura of impatient death that hung around their little huddle.

"I'm not sure if that was brave or stupid, Speed," Horatio said to the pale, shocked man, who was still holding onto Eric and whispering something into his ear, as the vaguely-conscious man murmured incoherent sounds in reply.

"I…I had to, H. I couldn't see any other way."

Horatio looked up at that and realised exactly how close to the edge Speed was. He took a moment to place a hand on his shoulder and meet his eyes intently. "Four minutes can be a long time."

Speed nodded faintly and Horatio went back to his work, attempting to discern what wires had been moved and how the timer was attached to the mechanism. He had to settle his mind to this – time was draining fast and this was one instance where fear of consequences was simply not allowed to be a distraction.

The soft beeping that indicated the timer was still running taunted him but he continued to gently move wires, as the presence of another person registered at his side. Wordlessly, the lady passed over a pair of pliers and said calmly, "Can you handle it?"

"I can," he said with equal calm and as quickly as she appeared, she made her exit – no point them all going up, was there? Another minute drained away and Horatio had narrowed it down to three wires. They were all a uniform black and disappeared into a tangled mess that Horatio didn't have time to decipher and investigate – he just had to pick one.

"Almost there, Speed," he said with a slight smile and if Speed noticed the tremor in his voice, he didn't comment. Yet when Horatio chanced a look up, he caught Speed's eye and realised with a sickening lurch that Speed knew he was going to die.

He had to pick one.


	3. State of Shock

NOTES: Sorry about the delay - watched the CSI: Vegas S5 finale last night and was in a state of shock. This is the final part - remember, feedback makes my day!

* * *

Tim Speedle wasn't a religious man but in that moment, he found himself praying. Praying that he could survive this, get Eric to hospital, make everything right…the likelihood of any of those things happening was rapidly dwindling away to nothing.

He had quietly counted down the seconds in his head until he realised there were only sixty remaining. One minute until they all blew up to kingdom come.

"I think I have the wire," Horatio breathed and placed the pliers over his chosen wire. As he was about break it, Speed gasped, "Stop," and the pliers' motion halted.

_Fifty…forty-nine…forty-eight…_

"Let me do it – get out of here. No point us all going up." Horatio looked momentarily shocked, hesitant, but then he eased his hands off the pliers as Speed slipped his right hand further around Eric to staunch the blood and pulled away his blood-slicked left hand to hold the pliers.

_Thirty-three…thirty-two…thirty-one…_

"Good luck, Speed," he choked out and then ran at full pelt out of the lab door. Speed watched him go with an eerie sense of calm and when he thought he was far enough away, he concentrated his sight on the pliers, on the possible pivot between life and death.

_Twenty-one…twenty…nineteen…_

Taking one long look at Eric's pale but beautiful face and placing a kiss to his temple, lips lingering, Speed allowed himself to feel the solid weight of the pliers in his hand and shut his eyes.

_Fourteen…thirteen…twelve…_

"I love you, Eric," he whispered and tightened his grip. _Snap._

_Ten._

The beeping faded to nothing and it took a few painful moments before Speed realised he wasn't dead and wasn't going to be anytime soon. He let the pliers fall to the floor and pulled Eric close to him, hands settling over the trickling wound and eyes still closed, thanking God that he was here to be thankful.

It took a couple of minutes before bomb squad personnel tiptoed in and now working without the threat of imminent explosion, managed to disentangle the remaining intimidating wires but Speed was passed caring. All he could see was Eric and then they were free and paramedics swarmed around them and took Eric from him.

He barely had the strength to protest – what was wrong with him? It was Eric who had been shot, who needed him to be strong, but here he was, quivering against the cabinet as if he still had a ticking bomb slung around his chest.

Minutes passed without him noticing, as he tried to pull himself together and only managed to sit there and watch them bundle up Eric, hang fluids and talk about bleeding and peritonitis and surgery as if this was just another day, another gun shot and maybe it was, maybe this was all perfectly normal for them but he was watching his best friend, his entire world being taken away on a stretcher and he couldn't even move.

"Sir? Sir, can you hear me? Someone get me a blanket here!"

He blearily focussed on the unfamiliar lady in front of him and she took his bloodied hands into her own without batting an eyelid. He was covered in Eric's blood – on his shirt, his hands, soaking the floor. The red was everywhere, but this lady wasn't paying attention to the blood, just looking at him.

"Okay, sir, can you tell me your name? Are you hurt, sir?"

He shook his head 'no' and managed to stutter out, "Tim." He immediately cursed himself for ten kinds of fool – this was absurd! He felt his breathing notch up a gear at his own frustration and the paramedic placed her hands on his shoulders, as she quickly wound a blanket around his shoulders.

"Tim, I need you to listen to me. You're in shock and you're breathing too fast. It's perfectly normal but I need you to try and calm down for me, okay? Just breathe nice and slowly, deep breaths."

"Eric, please, where…" the words tumbled past his lips but she just shushed him.

"Don't talk, just breathe. Eric's safe now, they're taking him to hospital. Which is where I'm going to take you in a bit, but first you need to breathe."

Fighting his rising panic, Speed drew a deep breath, then another, and his mind began to clear. In a few minutes, he felt almost halfway normal and that's when he saw Calleigh. She hurried over to him and ignoring the paramedic, wrapped him in a heartfelt embrace.

"Okay?" she said with a shaky voice and he nodded against her shoulder. Calleigh pulled away from him and looked questioningly at the paramedic.

"Residual shock, but he'll be fine."

"I'll take him to the hospital with us," Calleigh said with authority Speed had rarely heard her use and the paramedic acquiesced, and with one last command for him to 'keep breathing', she was gone.

Calleigh helped him to stand and supported him as he adjusted to being upright. She walked him slowly out of the building and past the flashing maelstrom of cameras and journalists. He found himself being enveloped in a hug by Alexx and wondered what he'd done to deserve this.

"Brave boy," she murmured tearfully and how he wished it were true.

"Let's go to the hospital, shall we?" Horatio interrupted and Speed pulled away from Alexx to meet Horatio's eyes. The man's determined gaze softened and he smiled at Speed. "It's going to be all right, Speed."

And for the first time, Speed actually believed it could be true.

* * *

Exhaustion was settling deep in her bones but Calleigh couldn't bring herself to leave. It was their second night haunting a hospital waiting room and there was still nothing definite coming out of the doctors' mouths. They had arrived to find Eric already in surgery – the bleeding had to be controlled before they could even attempt to repair any of the damage.

The list of possible complications was hideously long, with several of the more severe ones ending in the unsettling duo of 'coma and death'. Calleigh almost wished she hadn't asked for the literature. Then again, someone had to be sensible about this and Speed certainly wasn't in any condition to take responsibility.

He had held onto that blanket like a safety net and the red cloth was still draped over his shoulder, making him look like some kind of superhero. Which he was, Calleigh thought proudly, a real hero. Not that he could see it – once they'd forced hot, sweet tea into him, he had seemed more himself but every sound made him jump and she knew it was only a matter of time before he somehow made this out to be his fault.

As minutes had dragged into hours, Alexx returned home to her family, apologetic but accepting – there was nothing they could do for Eric now and it didn't take all three of them to baby-sit Speed. Horatio had left at first light, dragged back to the crime lab to give a statement, calm the bureaucrats and attempt to work out how a convicted felon had just wandered into CSI headquarters with a loaded firearm and several pounds of explosives. Calleigh didn't envy him the task.

Evening was once more shifting into night when a doctor finally came to see them. It had been a while since they had announced Eric was out of surgery for the second time but any other details had been unavailable. Eric's family were currently doing their waiting in the small chapel at the back of the hospital and Calleigh had promised to tell them as soon there was any news. Now it seemed their long wait was finally over.

"Ms Duquesne? Are Eric's family around?"

"They're in the chapel," she said in explanation, as Speed started from his stupor beside her and looked intently at the doctor. The man caught the stare and addressed his next comments directly to Speed.

"We have Eric stabilised but he's not out of danger yet. We found the bullet but it did some serious damage to the small and large intestine. We repaired the damage but infection is likely at this stage. He's on some strong antibiotics and plenty of fluids and his chances are good. Your friend is very strong, but there's still a long way to go."

Speed released a shuddering breath and Calleigh could almost divine his next words. "When can we see him?"

The doctor smiled patiently. "Eric needs careful monitoring at the moment, so not for a few days yet. I suggest you go home – if you leave me a contact number, I can let you know when he can receive visitors."

Calleigh could see that leaving the hospital bothered Speed, but with a little persuasion, she managed to bundle him into a taxi and send him back to his apartment. She quickly moved on to find Eric's family and as soon as she opened the chapel door, three pairs of eyes settled on her.

It was Eric's mother Clorinda who approached her and they stepped out of the chapel quietly. "The doctor brought news?" she said, eyes eager and yet wary of what she might hear.

Calleigh nodded. "He did. Eric's stable and they say its looking good so far. There could be complications, but they're giving him fluids and antibiotics. We just have to hang in there."

Clorinda nodded as if this made sense to her and then looked over Calleigh's shoulder, frowning. "Where is Tim? Have they let him see Eric?"

"No, no visitors at the moment. I sent Tim home – he looked fit to collapse."

Clorinda sighed and sat down on one of the chairs set outside the chapel. Calleigh joined her and the woman shot her a small smile. "So do you, Calleigh. You should go home too."

A yawn hit Calleigh at that moment and she smiled ruefully. "I will. I just wanted to let you know what was going on. I'll pick up Tim some time tomorrow and we'll come back then."

Calleigh moved to get up, but Clorinda's voice stopped her. "He's all he talks about, you know. Tim this and Tim that – he hasn't been this close to anyone in a long time. I would hate for him," Clorinda paused, swallowing down her tears, "for Tim not to know that."

The woman lost her proud self-control then and Calleigh comforted her, offering reassurances to this woman she barely knew and yet was so like Eric, so caring and so gentle, that she couldn't help but be drawn to her as she was to him.

"He'll tell him," Calleigh said with a certainty she wasn't sure she felt. "He'll tell him and we'll all be there to hear it."

"Such a nice young man," the woman whispered, a slight edge to her voice. "He must be a…good friend to Eric."

It was only then that Calleigh realised where this conversation was going and couldn't for the life of her think of how to react. What was Clorinda trying to tell her? That Eric felt that way…about Tim? If she was seeking reassurance from Calleigh, the young woman was suddenly not sure she could provide it. Because if Clorinda was hinting at what she thought she was, a lot of things suddenly made sense.

"He is that, Mrs Delko, a very good friend." She did stand up then and offered a smile, her mind whirring. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

Clorinda nodded silently, lost in her own thoughts, and Calleigh walked away.

* * *

He awoke to a dull sensation of pain. It was difficult to pinpoint, seeming to radiate from his several points within his body at once. This was nothing like a hangover, or even a good session at the gym – and he realised, abruptly, this wasn't even his bed. What on earth had he been up to last night?

Slowly, Eric opened his eyes and at the first sight of institutional white and the faint smell of disinfectant, he knew this was a different kind of twist. His memory of events returned in fits and starts and he flinched as he recalled the bullet savagely tearing through his body.

Slightly panicked now, he attempted to calm himself and work out exactly what was going on. It was then he noticed the presence of someone's hand in his, a set of fingers wrapped around his own and he turned his head slowly to find out whom.

A smile spread over his face as he took in the sight of a slumbering Tim Speedle. His dark hair was delightfully tousled, his t-shirt a grid of greases and the chair he was slumped in didn't even look comfortable. Eric took in the bruise-deep circles under his eyes and the pallor of his face and realised he was the cause.

Unwilling to disturb his sleep, Eric attempted to assess his condition. Pain in abdomen, check. Annoying headache and dizziness, check. Incredible thirst, check. But he was alive, breathing, and not at death's door, as far as he could tell. He also had a pretty nice view.

It was in these first moments of waking, where the world of dreams still held sway, that Eric began to realise that the little bubble of joy that was lodged in his chest was entirely due to Speed. He wondered how he had never noticed it before, but maybe they were right about brushes with death changing your perspective. Or perhaps he was just blind and stupid – it certainly wouldn't be the first time.

Maybe it was time to stop denying it then. If he were truly honest with himself, he had known there was something else there but it was a strange and terrifying place into which to venture. And could he really put their friendship on the line, the companionship that kept him sane, for something that might not be so great after all?

Yet nothing ventured, nothing gained and surely now that his heart had made its feelings known, the half-ignored longings would only insinuate themselves into everything he did with Speed and their friendship would suffer one way or the other, dishonesty effectively ending the relationship without Eric ever having the opportunity to investigate this attraction that could lead to a whole lot more.

Eric then decided he was in too much pain to think that deeply. He tried to shift to ease the ache, but it had the exact opposite effect, a wave of pain crippling him and causing him to tighten his grip on Speed's hand.

The man shifted awake instantly and Eric let his pain-filled eyes meet the shocked dark eyes of one Tim Speedle. "Hey," he mouthed tiredly, as Speed just continued to stare as if he had just seen a ghost.

Finally, he managed to shut his mouth and learn forward, not releasing his grip on Eric's hand. "Hey," he said and a hint of a smile played across his lips. Eric returned it, feeling that little bubble burst and fill him with warmth. "How are you feeling?"

"Hurts," he admitted, and Speed tried to pull away, mumbling about the nurse, but Eric held fast. When Speed looked at their joined hands questioningly, Eric just smiled.

"Tim, come here," he said softly, and as if spellbound, Speed leaned towards him, just close enough for Eric to touch his lips to his once, twice before relinquishing his grip on his hand.

"Now you can get the nurse," Eric said with a satisfied smile and Speed, despite looking like he'd just been whacked upside the head, managed to stand and carry out the command. Eric watched him go with a nervous excitement that effectively blanketed the pain – he'd just kissed his best friend and far from retching in disgust, said best friend had actually looked pleased albeit slightly shocked.

Things were looking up.

* * *

Speed drove as carefully as possible through the Miami streets, shooting concerned glances at his passenger every two minutes. He'd never realised the route between the hospital and his apartment was such a maze of turns and traffic lights, stops and starts. He shot another look at Eric only to meet darkly amused that sparkled with mischief.

"I haven't vanished yet," he said lightly and Speed returned the smile before turning his eyes back to the road. They hadn't really spoken about what had happened in the hospital – Speed had just put it down to the pain medication and tried to move on, but it was proving more difficult than he'd anticipated.

He still acutely remembered his feelings of anguish when Eric had been shot and in the rational light of day, they still refused to be quelled. There were a thousand reasons why it was a bad idea to keep harbouring these feelings but there was one very compelling reason to continue entertaining them – Eric was an amazing, handsome man who didn't think Speed was something to be scraped off his shoe. And maybe, just maybe, he might feel the same way.

That's if he didn't blame Speed for this whole mess. Apparently, though, Eric was blind to the hundreds of ways Speed could've changed events and was quite insistent that Speed had saved his life. He was, in fact, so convincing that Speed was starting to believe it himself.

Pulling up outside his apartment block, he realised the next few weeks were going to be very interesting indeed. He'd instantly volunteered when the doctor said someone should stay with Eric and moving to his apartment had been the logical next step, as it was far closer to the ground than Eric's and had an elevator that was actually reliable.

Speed slipped out of the door and yanked Eric's holdall out of the back seat before circling round to the passenger side and opening the door. Eric regarded him with obvious amusement and gratefully accepted his hand down, moving with far less than his usual grace. Speed let him make his own way to the door with only a supporting hand on his back – he had to do this by himself, he was far too proud to accept anything else.

They entered the building and rode the elevator without incident, though Eric was already getting tired. At first, it had shocked Speed exactly how much his usually exuberant friend had just wanted to sleep day in, day out, but after the doctor had reassured him that it was perfectly normal, he had started to find this sleepy, slothful Eric Delko rather adorable.

Shaking such thoughts from his mind, he opened the apartment door and guided Eric inside. He watched him gingerly settle himself on the sofa before nodding to himself and putting Eric's stuff in his own bedroom. He brought a couple books back out with him and placed them on Eric's lap.

"I, uh, went by your place to get some stuff. I thought you might want a few books, videos, CDs. If you want me to get anything else…"

He trailed off because Eric was smiling again, that bright 'nothing can touch me' smile that had been absent of late. "Thanks, Speed," he said and fingered the books absently before setting them aside.

"Do you want anything to eat, drink? I think I've got some pasta somewhere…"

"Speed!" Eric exclaimed, laughing down. "Slow down, I'm fine really. There is nothing else I need, nothing I want…" his voice failed and his eyes steadily met Speed's, all intent now. "You're here," he finished simply, and in that instant, Speed realised what he wasn't saying and he felt his mouth go dry.

This was Fate presenting him with an opportunity and he should reach out and grab it with both hands. Propelled by some unknown force, he took a couple of steps forward so he was stood directly in front of Eric and his wondering, hopeful smile.

"Eric, I…" he stopped and tried to think, tried to find exactly the right words, but found that his power of speech had deserted him. Frustrated, he settled for a different language and kissed Eric hard, hoping to convey all his emotions in that one simple act.

There was a surprised gasp against his lips but after a moment Eric was kissing him back, and Speed knelt on the sofa, straddling Eric's lap, possessing him and being possessed. Eric's tentative hands crept up his back, warmth infusing into his body as he held onto Eric as if to never let go.

Finally, they broke apart through necessity of oxygen and Eric was looking at him with a dazed smile. "Very…eloquent," he breathed and Speed couldn't help but smile too.

"You're not going to kick me out of my apartment, are you?" Speed said, struck with the sudden fear that Eric was going to reject him and was just finding the right words.

"I think I'll keep you here," Eric murmured and kissed him, dispelling Speed's fears and effectively ending the conversation. When they broke apart again, Speed realised Eric had a slight grimace to his lips and slid away.

"You need to go to bed," he said knowingly and Eric looked most put out.

"What are you, my mother?" he said grumpily, but started to get up.

"Don't even go there," Speed warned good-naturedly and let Eric lean on his shoulder as they made their way into the bedroom. With greatest care, Eric sat, lethargy overtaking him, and it was all Speed could do to wrestle him out of his clothes and into his pyjamas.

Eric settled himself carefully into bed and as Speed made to leave, he reached for his hand. "Join me?"

"Eric, I don't think that's a good idea, I mean…" Speed stuttered, but Eric just chuckled under his breath.

"Sleep, Tim. I want to sleep. With you."

"Oh." Yes, that was about as coherent as Tim Speedle would get for a while and he toed off his shoes quickly, sliding into bed beside Eric. He lay on his side, curled around Eric's shoulder and gently slipped his arm across Eric's chest.

"I'm here, Tim," Eric murmured sleepily. "Staying right here."

Speed smiled and drifted off to sleep.


End file.
